


(Please Let Me Be) Part of Your World

by Songbird321



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But it's coming closely after the close of the fic, Human!Jean, Lots of fluff with some plot, M/M, Magical Realism, Mermaid!Marco, unestablished relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28640664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songbird321/pseuds/Songbird321
Summary: Marco had, on principle, an optimistic personality. He made it his goal to try to see the brighter side of things, to point out the sun shining through the clouds. He’d smile so others could smile with him, laugh for the same reason. It was something he prided himself on. But even Marco had to admit it was difficult to find a bright side lying in a glorified puddle of whales-knew what with a gaping wound in his abdomen miles and miles from home.OR the time Jean saved Marco after the worst day of his young, mermaidian life.
Relationships: Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16
Collections: JeanMarco Gift Exchange 2020





	(Please Let Me Be) Part of Your World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [folf_world](https://archiveofourown.org/users/folf_world/gifts).



> Happy New Year folf_world! As your JM Secret Santa this year, I sincerely hope you enjoy this fluff-filled fic! Going off of your mermaid prompt, I had a number of ideas to run with, and tried to squeeze them all in here. It does get cheesy at times, so be warned. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> I would also like to say sorry for the formatting. I'm working on a new computer with a new word processing program, and trying to fix it was an ordeal!

Marco had, on principle, an optimistic personality. He made it his goal to try to see the brighter side of things, to point out the sun shining through the clouds. He’d smile so others could smile with him, laugh for the same reason. It was something he prided himself on.  
But even Marco had to admit it was difficult to find a bright side lying in a glorified puddle of whales-knew what with a gaping wound in his abdomen miles and miles from home.  
After the meeting with the tribe leaders had gone horribly wrong, (a thought Marco didn’t have the energy to entertain at the moment,) he’d found himself scrambling through a system of drain pipes in a desperate attempt to escape. Fighting against a blessedly weak current, Marco had swam through complete darkness until the first pipe had spat him out into a lagoon. The light was waning when Marco hit the water, but from the looks of it, the lagoon was man-made, and had a few other pipes and rivers leading to and from it. Choosing a path leading further away from the sea, Marco swam on until his arms and tail couldn’t anymore, and then let the current carry him to the bank of a river.  
And what a bank it was. The shore was made of mud instead of sand, with sharp rocks hidden haphazardly within the muck. The mud itself smelled something awful, as if it had absorbed the scent of rot and decay from some workshop of human depravity, (or at least that’s what Marco’s adrenaline-high, panic-mode brain attributed it to.) And the water and shore were spotted with garbage, carried to this spot from other areas of the river where people had lazily let their trash pollute the water. Definitely not an ideal place for an exhausted mermaid with a gaping wound in his side.  
Marco closed his eyes and took a deep breath, fighting the ache in his muscles and the screaming pain in his torso. The headache from the blood loss didn’t help either. Very carefully, Marco pressed his fingers to the wound and looked down. A pained hiss left him involuntarily at the pain of even that slight touch, and Marco found himself panicking more at the sight of the jagged gashes in his body. Blood was still slowly trickling from spots along the wound, and it definitely looked like some debris from the journey through the pipes had gotten lodged in places. Marco bit his lip to keep from crying. If he didn’t do something soon, the wound would likely become infected, and how would he ever get home then?  
He needed help, and he needed it now. And because no one was around, Marco needed to help himself. No time for crying now; he could do that later once he’d gotten some sort of medical attention. With another steadying breath, Marco tried to shift his tail into legs. It wasn’t necessarily a hard thing to do, and he’d done it plenty of times before. But the pain was blinding, unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Marco bit his knuckle to keep from crying out as white spots appeared in his vision. _Poseidon almighty, Reiner, what did you do to me?!_ he thought, breathing hard as he stopped the transformation before it could even begin. Tears stung the back of his eyes. There was no way he was getting out of this by himself.  
And that meant relying on a stranger, a human, something Marco had been warned against his whole life. _Sailors, fishermen, those who know the sea can often be trusted,_ his parents advised, _but you never know about the rest. They’re a risk best worth avoiding._ They hadn’t taught him to fear humankind, but be cautious of them, lest they run into some lunatic who’d chop them to pieces to sell on the black market or put them in an aquarium and treat them like a sideshow. And because humans didn’t wear name tags identifying whether their moral alignment, Marco had never really learned the signs of a trustworthy person.  
But what choice did he have? He had to take a risk now: risk ending up with a sadistic human who would at least get him out of here, or die of blood loss and infection on this gross shore.  
With a few more deep breaths to dull the pain a bit, (which did not work,) Marco began to sing out a soft melody, leaning fully into his siren talents. All mermaids had them to some degree, and Marco was lucky enough to have two parents with incredible sirenic gifts. He could wield his voice like a weapon if he wanted to. He often did use it to charm away lost sailors’ hopelessness in place of hope and confidence, or to bring extra joy to families out enjoying the water together. Marco had only used it as a real weapon once, stopping a gang of teens from forcing a kid to jump into dangerous waters, and the feeling of being in utter control of another living being had been simultaneously intoxicating and horrifying. It felt wrong, but he’d craved that power for weeks afterwards, disgusted with himself for it, but unable to staunch the desire for control. So he’s tried to keep his siren calling to a minimum since then, but even a lack of practice didn’t diminish his power potential.  
Even so, Marco could feel the power of this song was weaker than normal due to the blood loss and exhaustion. Perhaps that could be a good thing. Whoever heard it would find him and probably help, but they’d be in full control of their own mind. This act was harmless, helpful even. Maybe he’d meet a good human who would become his friend, like in the fairytales he’d read as a child…  
_But, good or evil, that human better get here now._  
A wave of dizziness crashed through Marco, and he closed his eyes as he started back at the beginning of his melody. No matter his talent, proper siren calling still took a decent amount of energy, a resource Marco was running dangerously low on at the moment. If no one heard his call soon, he’d pass out, and likely never wake up.  
Determined not to die on this disgusting river bank, Marco began to repeat his song for a third time with all the strength he could muster. And, as if some deity, merfolk or human, had heard his desperate thoughts, Marco finally heard a noise. His ears picked up a metallic jingling sound coupled with a snuffling noise and the movement of the underbrush surrounding the river. Not a moment later, a faint light appeared through the trees. Two shapes, eerily blurry pushed through the branches, one incredibly tiny compared to the other. The small one was moving on four legs, which wasn’t normal for a human, if Marco remembered correctly. The small one gave a sharp cry, high pitched and insistent, as it bounded towards Marco.  
“What is it, girl?” the taller shape asked in a man’s voice asked, tripping after the tiny one just as it arrived at Marco’s face. It was some sort of furry animal, its whole body wiggling at the sight of Marco lying there on the shore. Panic and confusion seized the merman; he’d never seen this type of creature before, and had no idea how dangerous it was.  
But before he could think about it more, Marco heard the footsteps of the man approach, and looked up just as the man noticed him. Their eyes met for a brief second, both wide with disbelief. The man’s face had gone white, whether because of Marco’s injury or the fact that he was there at all, Marco didn’t know. And he didn’t have time to know. Because here was a human, and that was the last thing his consciousness needed to see before it gave into the pain and the confusion and the exhaustion.  
“Help me,” Marco pleaded. And then he passed out. 

When Marco opened his eyes, he immediately squeezed them shut again. The light was so bright, brighter than he’d seen in a while, maybe brighter than he’d ever seen. But he needed to know where he was, so he fought through the pain to blink his eyes open.  
What he found was a small room, painted a soft blue, illuminated by a fluorescent light fixed to the ceiling. Marco was lying in a large basin of water that took up one whole wall of the room. His tail was hanging off the lip of the basin just a bit, but not uncomfortably so, which he was eternally grateful for. There were two other basins in the room, both smaller than the one Marco was in, and with much stranger shapes, set up against the opposite wall. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense to him, but Marco still found it comforting. If his memory served from all the stories his grandma and parents had told him about humans, this was probably what they called a ‘bathroom,’ and the other two shapes likely had water that led to drains that led to the sea somehow. This didn’t look like a place a wicked human would take him. Especially because whoever had brought him here had the though to fill the basin with warm water to keep his tail from drying out and to numb the pain in his aching torso.  
Thinking about the injury brought all the memories of the disaster of a day flooding back, and Marco glanced down to reassess the wound now that he was in the light. Bandages covered his whole abdomen, the gauze wrapped all around his torso to hold extra dressings against the bite marks. There was still pain, but it had lessened significantly. He could probably shift his tail into legs now, but didn’t want to risk it.  
Still, he was curious to know what his injury actually looked like. As his fingers moved to pull the bandages away and reveal the damage underneath, a noise at the door drew Marco’s attention away. Someone was turning the knob. Heart leaping into his throat, Marco tried to scrunch his body as small as possible against the back of the basin, but found himself grimacing in pain as his torso bent with the motion of pulling in his tail. And before he could fully maneuver into as defensive a position as possible in the small space he had, the door opened and a young man walked in.  
Something inside Marco clicked into place when their eyes met.  
He gave a start at the sight of Marco’s eyes gazing back at him. “Oh hey, you’re awake.” Marco nodded silently, taking in the man in front of him. His hair was a dark sandy color and his eyes a golden shade of hazel. He was dressed in a plain blue hoodie and sweatpants (one thing Marco did somewhat know about were human clothes cause they were kind of fascinating when you thought about it) with his feet bare. In his arms he carried a two bottles, one containing a clear liquid and the other made of an opaque material Marco couldn’t see through, and another roll of bandages. Marco had no idea what a trustworthy person looked like, but if this was the person responsible for saving him and taking care of his wound, they had to be good, right?  
“Can you… ya know… talk?” the young man asked, setting his things down on top of the taller basin structure.  
“Yeah.” Marco nodded. “I can speak English.”  
“Ah. Yeah. Guess that may have been a stupid question.”  
“No, that’s a fair question,” Marco replied. “Merfolk can speak a number of languages, depending on where we live. And my tribe lives close to here, relatively. So we speak English.”  
The young man nodded, lips pursed. “Neat.” He nodded towards the bandages. “So how are you feeling?”  
“Well, not great.” Marco wiggled his fins as he tried to think up a good way to describe just how he was feeling, and watched as Jean did his best not to stare. “You can touch it if you want.”  
The young man’s whole body straightened as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “No, no, that’s okay,” he stammered, far too quickly.  
“It’s really okay. Most people want to touch the tail when they meet a mermaid,” Marco explained, shifting his fins again. The young man watched again with keen interest, but he ultimately shook his head.  
“Maybe later. Right now, I think we should start by getting to know each other. I’m Jean.” The young man, Jean, settling onto one knee in front of the tub as he held out a hand to Marco, who eyed him warily. Jean’s palm rotated so that it was facing Marco in a calming gesture. “Relax. This is just how humans greet each other.” He clasped both of his hands together and slowly moved them up and down. “It’s called a handshake. Want to try?”  
Jean reached his hand out again. This time, Marco reached forward and clasped his wet hand to Jean’s dry palm, and shook it lightly.  
“What should I call you?” Jean asked, their hands still intertwined.  
“Marco.”  
“Nice to meet you, Marco.”  
“Nice to meet you too, Jean.”  
They pulled their hands apart, Marco’s slipping back into the water as Jean’s reached for a towel hanging on a rack next to the tub.  
“Are you hungry?” Jean asked, looking at Marco with an encouraging smile.  
“Well, now that you mention it…” Marco’s hand pressed to his stomach as it gave the slightest of rumbles as soon as it had been reminded about food. “I’d really appreciate some food.”  
“Awesome, awesome.” Jean stood up and placed his hands on his hips. “I have macaroni and cheese, and some bananas.” His lips flattened into a thin line as his eyes gazed off at something in the distance. “That… sounds worse out loud.”  
Marco gave a chuckle. “It may not sound great, but I am _not_ picky. But I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know what macaroni and cheese is.” He offered Jean an over exaggerated smile. And the young man mimicked it, which made Marco’s heart skip a beat.  
“Well, I highly recommend it, but maybe some other time. It won’t be easy to eat in the bathtub.”  
“Fair enough. So I’ll take a banana, or anything else you think would be easy to eat in here.”  
Jean nodded. “Okay. I’ll be back in a jiff.”  
Marco nodded as Jean disappeared through the door. The mermaid settled back into the water, sinking down until it reached his neck. It did mean that more of his tail was now out of the water, but it felt nice to get more of his body under the water again. He wasn’t sure when he’d next be in the water. Given the state of his body at the moment, it would probably be a while.  
Jean came back not too long after with two bananas and a small red bowl. “Here’s your banana. And I thought you might like to try some pretzels too.”  
Marco sat back up, eyebrows furrowing at the opportunity in front of him. “Pretzels?”  
“You gotta try these.” Jean lowered himself to his knees and showed Marco the contents of the bowl. It was filled it small twists made of a compound Marco had never seen in a shape he’d never encountered either. “They’re hard to explain, but you’re gonna love ‘em.”  
Jean pulled one of the twists from the bowl and offered it to Marco. The merman peered it at, eyes wide with curiosity as he took in the snack from all angles before carefully lifting it from Jean’s fingers. The twist was much lighter than Marco had anticipated.  
“DoI just eat it like this?” he asked, wide eyes staring at Jean. “Or do I break it into little pieces?”  
“You can do either of those,” Jean said, his voice a breath away from a laugh. “I suggest you try this one whole.”  
Marco nodded and placed the pretzel in his mouth. He bit down. The crunching sensation was completely new, but the flavor was out of this world. “Mmmmm!” he exclaimed, eyes widening again, this time with delight. He gripped the side of the tub from sheer joy. “That was amazing!”  
Jean laughed out loud. “Well if you think _that’s amazing_ , then I can’t wait to see what you do with actual food.”  
“Actual food?”  
“These are literally a simple snack.” Jean held up another pretzel before popping it in his mouth. “Oh wow,” Marco breathed as Jean passed over the pretzel bowl, and the clear bottle, which he said was filled with water, (which did confuse Marco cause he was already surrounded by water, so why would he need more water?) “I have a lot to learn about human stuff.”  
“And I’m happy to share any information you want to know, _after_ we talk about the elephant in the room,” Jean said, nodding towards Marco’s abdomen.  
Marco’s head titled to the side. “The what?”  
“It’s an expression. It means something obvious that people are trying not to talk about.” Jean pointed towards Marco’s stomach this time. “Like your injury.”  
“Oh.” The mermaid looked back at the bandages. “My injury is very painful and feels absolutely disgusting.”  
“Yeah, I imagine it feels like hell,” Jean said, settling back onto both knees. “It was a doozy trying to clean it up. But I washed it out with some hydrogen peroxide and slathered on some Neosporin before bandaging you up.”  
“Wait, what did you put on it?” Marco asked. Jean had to keep himself from laughing at the earnest look of confusion on the mermaid’s face.  
“Hydrogen peroxide and Neosporin.” The young man reached behind him and grabbed the containers of both from the counter. He held up the opaque brown bottle first. “Hydrogen peroxide is used to clean out any debris stuck in the wound.” He then held up a small, yellow tube. “And Neosporin is used to keep it clean and help you heal faster.”  
“Wow,” Marco sighed, leaning forward to look at the containers. “That’s incredible.”  
Jean chuckled. “That’s modern medicine for ya.”  
Before Marco could ask how Jean had managed to get the bandages on him while the mermaid was unconscious and unable to help, the furry creature from before bounded through the door and was jumping against the lip of the tub before he could form a sentence. The merman shrunk back into the corner of the basin, water splashing over as the creature began to yap at him.  
“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” Jean scooped the creature up and pulled it away from Marco. “She’s just a dog.”  
“A… dog?” Marco asked, eyeing the creature as it wriggled against Jean’s hold, desperate to leap towards Marco again. Probably to attack him. He stayed put in the corner of the tub.  
Jean’s brow furrowed. “I guess you don’t have dogs where you’re from.” Marco shook his head. “Well they’re nothing to worry about. Especially not Holly here. They’re a common human pet; their main goal in life is to be happy and make others happy. Would you like to pet her?” Marco eyed the dog, Holly, again. “She won’t bite you, I promise.”  
“Okay.” Marco nodded, inching closer to Jean and the dog.  
Jean smiled and shifted Holly in his arms as he grabbed a towel and held it out to Marco. “Here, dry your hands first. That way you’ll get the full fluff experience.”  
“What’s that mean?” Marco asked as he took the towel and began to dry his hands, (which he’d never had the chance to do before. But he luckily did know how towels were supposed to work after watching people on the beach. He knew there’d be a lot of silly questions coming in the near future, and begin saved even one was a blessing.)  
“Well I don’t think you have textures like this where you come from,” Jean explained, holding Holly still. “Fluff is kinda a land-only thing.”  
Brow furrowed, Marco passed the towel back to Jean and awaited further instructions. Jean simply held the puppy closer to him. Marco shrank back a bit on instinct. An amused grin curled up Jean’s lips as he gave Marco an encouraging look. The mermaid met his eyes for a minute, as if gauging whether or not to trust him. Jean had proven himself to be a good person so far. What could be the harm in trusting him now?  
Marco reached forward and let the tips of his fingers rest on top of the dog’s head. Holly’s tongue was on his wrist fast as lightning, and Marco recoiled a bit from the feeling, making Jean laugh. But the unexpected lick wasn’t enough to keep Marco from reaching forward again, this time sinking his fingers deeper into the dog’s soft fur. Jean was right; this was a new feeling for him. Sure, there were plenty of soft things to be found underwater, many of which that could pass for this ‘fluffy’ term Jean had used. But none of them compared to the sheer joy that this animal’s fur produced.  
“She’s so soft,” Marco sighed, shifting his body a little closer so he could pet Holly with both hands. The dog was still wiggling in Jean’s arms, but it seemed less like a strategy to escape and more of an overabundance of happiness.  
“I told you,” Jean replied with a soft chuckle. “I love her.”  
“That seems a bit dramatic. You just met.”  
“Isn’t that basically the story of _The Little Mermaid_?” Marco asked sarcastically. He wasn’t prepared for the look of bewilderment on Jean’s face. “What? You think we aren’t aware of Hans Christian Anderson’s portrayal of us? Or Walt Disney’s? We live in the ocean, not on another planet.”  
Jean snorted, seemingly against his better judgement. Holly took advantage of her owner’s distraction and wriggled free of his hold. She eagerly sniffed Marco’s towel, then bounded out the door, off to make mischief elsewhere. “I would’ve thought that you’d be offended by the way that movie portrays you all. Ariel's more than a little impulsive... and whiny.”  
Marco shrugged. “I mean, sure, but she's just a kid. But the love part, that _could_ theoretically happen, no?”  
“I’m not sure what dating is like where you come from, but up here, it’s a little harder than finding your soul mate washed up on a beach.”  
Marco shrugged again. “But not wholly impossible?”  
Jean pursed his lips and shook his head. “No. Not impossible.” An electric silence fell as their eyes met again. Jean cleared his throat and looked away. “I guess it’s difficult for me to assume what humans things you know about. It seems to be a pretty arbitrary line.”  
“Yeah, that’s true…” Marco nodded, absently looking over at his tail. He gave his fins another flex, mostly to keep them from cramping up. “Is it safe to assume that your knowledge of merfolk is the same?”  
“Pretty much.” Jean settled back into a seated position, arms crossed casually over his chest. After a moment’s thought, Marco went to imitate him, but he miscalculated his position in relation to the tub and slipped just enough for his injured side to brush against the side of the basin. The pain was instantaneous and blinding. Marco suppressed a scream into a groan, his face screwing shut from the contact.  
“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Jean’s worried voice asked. He sounded closer, likely leaning back towards the tub at Marco’s expression.  
“Nothing… I just… my side hit the tub,” Marco ground out through clenched teeth. The pain was becoming less immediate now that the injury was back in open water, and the mermaid was able to open his eyes again.  
“You sure you’re good?” Jean asked. Marco nodded, less than convincing. But it seemed to work for Jean, who simply nodded in return. He settled back again, eyeing Marco curiously. “So, what… happened?”  
Marco’s hand rested over the bandages, as if protecting the damaged flesh underneath. “Shark attack,” he answered, not ready to get into the full story.   
Jean’s eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. “A shark did that?”   
“Well, a mershark,” Marco amended. “So their mouth was a little smaller but still…” He mimed fangs with his fingers. “Deadly.”  
“I can only imagine,” Jean replied. His eyes kept drifting towards the bandages, and snapped back up to meet Marco’s eyes periodically as if watching the wound were something he shouldn’t be doing. The mermaid nearly smiled when he recognized what Jean was doing, but he was interrupted by a yawn that didn’t go unnoticed by his human companion. “I should probably let you get more sleep.” Marco nodded in agreement and Jean pushed himself to his feet. “Will you be alright in the bathtub all night? Or can you give yourself, like…”  
“Legs?” Marco finished at the same time as Jean. The young man nodded, the faintest blush coloring his cheeks. “Yes, I can give myself legs, but I don’t have the strength at the moment. I’ll probably have to stay in the tub like this for a bit. Will that be too much of an imposition?”  
Jean shrugged as he gave his head a single shake. “Nah. As long as I can brush my teeth and stuff quick now, and we can get you up on your feet sometime tomorrow so I can shower, you’re good to just chill in there. Not an imposition at all.”  
“Good.” Marco grinned. “Thank you for all you’re doing for me. I didn’t expect you to…”  
“Help you?’ Jean supplied, one eyebrow arching fiendishly.  
“At least not this much.” Marco gestured to the water beneath him and the room around him. “This is… I don’t think there are words, human or otherwise, to describe how grateful I am.”  
The blush in Jean’s cheeks grew a shade stronger. “Really, it’s nothing. Anyone with a heart would’ve done the same.”  
“Even so, I’m glad it was you who found me.”  
Marco realized that he liked watching Jean blush harder the more flustered he became. And, as if he’d hit some sort of limit, Jean responded to Marco’s words by rushing out of the room. Marco could hear him scurrying off deeper into the apartment, and was only a little surprised when he quickly came back into the room with a bundle of fabric in his arms.  
Okay. I’m gonna leave these here. In case you, ya know.” Jean gestured to his legs, and made some vague movement that probably supposed to mean _tail shifting into legs_. He then placed the pile of clothes on the counter, thought about it, and gave Marco a quick run down of how and where to wear each piece.  
“Thank you, Jean,” Marco said, smiling, he realized, genuinely for the second time that evening. “For everything.”  
Jean smiled back, nodding his head. The ghost of a blush had started to return to his cheeks. “Of course. See you tomorrow, then.”  
“See you tomorrow.”

Marco awoke from a restless, uncomfortable sleep to the feeling of something rough and uncomfortably moist touching his hand. The mermaid snapped awake to find Holly waiting for him to notice her, vigorously licking his hand, which had fallen out of the tub during the night, (and accounted for a very sore shoulder). The room was still illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp, and Marco couldn’t see any light peeking in around the crack of the door Holly had snuck in through, so it was likely still night and Jean was fast asleep.  
Holly gave a high pitched yap when Marco pulled his hand away, and he brought a finger to his lips as he whispered a “shhh.” The dog’s whole body shook as her tail wagged back and forth, waiting for him to reach out and pet her. So Marco scratched the puppy’s head, until she collapsed to the floor with joy. He couldn’t help but smile at that.  
But as he woke up more, Marco became aware of the fact that his body ached terribly from his position in the tub. He knew it was the only option he had until he could retract the tail, but it was doing terrible things to his back and neck. Even his tail was starting to feel sore from the awkward position he had to hold it in to keep as much of his scales under water as possible. Every muscle felt stiff. And while Marco knew sore muscles were much better than bleeding out on a dirty riverbank, he was in just a little too much pain to be grateful for his lot. It would probably be easier to focus on the positives if he could move out from this tub.  
Marco closed his eyes and took three deep breaths in through his nose, calming the raging storm inside his head. The betrayal of his tribesmen, the trauma of the attack, the exhaustion of his escape, the pain of being cramped in this tub… all of it needed to fade to silence for a few blissful seconds if Marco had any hope of shifting his tail.  
_Come on, Marco. You can do this. You have to do this. This isn’t just for you. Let Jean have his tub back._  
The thought of the young man who’d saved him from that miserable beach brought a soft smile to Marco’s lips. He’d taken a gamble by calling out for human help, and wound up with a terribly kind man who willingly gave up his bathtub for a wounded mermaid he didn’t know. Jean hadn’t just brought him home, but had patched up Marco’s wound, _and_ had let him pet his dog. The kindness he’d been shown was enough to make him tear up. Instead, Marco used the image of Jean to inspire his transformation.  
With one final deep breath, Marco willed the transformation to begin.  
A flash of white hot pain tore through his abdomen. Marco ripped the towel from the rack above his head, biting into the fabric to muffle the guttural scream that roared from his throat beyond his control. The scream gave way to heaving sobs. Everything hurt. Everything hurt and Marco was trapped somewhere he didn’t know with someone he barely knew, and he couldn’t shift away his tail. Something was desperately wrong with him, and Marco was miles away from anyone who could help him.  
So he kept the towel pressed close to his face, absorbing the sound of his agony so he wouldn’t wake up his savior, or drag Jean into pain he didn’t need to be burdened with. Marco let himself crumble so he could appear whole the next time Jean came to visit.  
As the sobs turned to whimpers and the tears disappeared from his eyes, Marco slowly opened his eyes. He scrubbed the tearstains from his eyes and cheeks, blinking a few times to adjust back to the dim lighting. The first thing he noticed were the dark blotches on the bandages, then the tendrils of something dark swirling in the water by his tail. Something was desperately, terribly wrong with him. 

By nature, Jean was not a morning person. He preferred staying up later and sleeping in longer. He’d been that way as long as he could remember. Yet Jean found himself opening his eyes to a clock reading 7:36AM that morning. Something was tugging at the back of his brain, willing him to get out of bed and get moving.  
And it didn’t take him long to realize it was the merman in his bathtub.  
With more energy than usual, he pulled back his covers and willingly left his bed. Marco was currently confined to the bathtub; Jean didn’t know if it was possible for the merman to substitute his tail for legs, but even if he could, he was probably drained from last night’s adventure. Jean would have to get the full story from him later, but for now, his job was to help Marco heal as best he could so that he could return home. A bathtub was no home for a full grown mermaid. Even Jean knew that.  
With Holly bumbling around his ankles, Jean made quick work of throwing together a breakfast that could easily be eaten in a bathtub: toast with peanut butter and bananas. It was far from fine dining, but it also was probably one of Jean’s better meals. He wasn’t the best cook, despite all of his mom’s attempted lessons, but he could make a mean slice of toast. And Marco seemed like one of the least picky eaters Jean had ever met. Then again, the merman’s current need of calories to heal his body ensured that no matter what Jean made, he’d eat it.  
Jean grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and started up the coffeemaker. It was unlikely that they had coffee where Marco was from, but that didn’t mean Jean wasn’t reliant on it. He’d come back for it, though. It was only fair to get Marco food as soon as possible. Jean also knew little about the mermaid metabolism, and hoped that they ate as regularly as humans.  
Holly continued to race after Jean as he made his way to the bathroom, and shouldered the door open. “Good morning,” he greeted with more energy than usual as he entered the bathroom. “How are we…?”  
The dishes he’d been carrying clattered to the floor.  
Marco looked like death incarnate. The water around him had a faint amber tint to it, and the bandages on his torso were stained black in ugly splotches. His body lay limp in the bathtub, hid head above water solely because the tub was too short for him. Dull brown eyes, half-lidded and ringed with deep shadows, looked up at Jean pleadingly from an ashen face.  
“Jean… help.” 

Marco remembered very little of that day. He drifted in and out of consciousness, perpetually in pain, never coherent enough to form a full thought in his head. People moved in and out of his line of vision, some he knew, most he didn’t. There was a good chance that many of those people were nothing more than hallucinations. There was also an even better chance that they weren’t people, merfolk or human or otherwise, at all. He tried to talk with some of them, but was never sure if the words made it past his mouth, or even his brain for that matter.  
All Marco knew for sure was that when he woke up, truly woke up, he was all alone in Jean’s bathroom, sprawled out the tub like the first night. He blinked a few times, discerning whether or not any of this was real. His twirled his fingers in the water, felt the sensation of his own hand moving of his own volition, felt the fluid cradling his body like a warm hand holding him from harm.  
It was far from the comfort of being totally immersed in the sea, but it was a comfort nonetheless.  
Marco took a deep breath through his nose and a long look around the room. He had no way of knowing how long he’d been under for, or even really what time of day it was. The lights in the hallway were off, so it was likely that Jean was asleep, which meant that it must be nighttime. Still, the uncertainty left him feeling antsy.  
The next thought was of his injury, and Marco looked down to see new, clean bandages around his abdomen. There were less than the first time. That had to mean something good, right? Slowly, carefully, Marco began to peel away the bandages right above the sore spot so he could see it without ruining the dressing. The wound underneath was clearly still a wound, crimson and jagged and angry. But it was no longer actively bleeding, and small sections near the ends of the gashes had started the process of scabbing over.  
Marco lightly pressed his hand to the wound over the bandages. There was some pain, but he no longer felt like passing out. No spots attacked his vision, and no new blood appeared from the wound.  
A small sound squeaked from Marco’s throat. He was finally healing.  
Which meant he might actually have the strength to get out of this bathtub.  
After taking three deep breaths to calm himself, and a fourth for good measure, Marco closed his eyes and willed his tail to transform.  
He nearly cried as he felt the magic begin to work. But he couldn’t break focus, and could celebrate as much as he wanted as soon as he was out of this tub. Marco closed his eyes and put his full strength into siphoning as much power as possible to his tail.  
A few moments more, and the transformation was complete. Marco opened his eyes and gave another cry of delight at the site of his legs. It had been a while since he’d made this transformation, and he’d almost forgotten how funny it felt to have two legs instead of one tail. He wiggled his toes, braced his knees, tightened each muscle in turn, relishing in the feeling of his magic.  
And then, for the first time in however long it had been since Jean had saved him, Marco left the bathtub. 

Jean woke up more exhausted than he’d been when he’d fallen asleep. It had been two days since he’d saved Marco and brought him home, and the mermaid had been on the brink of death ever since. He’d seemed so energetic that first night, asking questions and cherishing the taste of pretzels and losing it over the discovery of dogs. But in the early hours of that first morning, when Jean had found him newly bleeding and deathly pale, he’d thought Marco was done for.  
It had been a moment of instant panic. Jean had fallen to his knees next to the tub, taken Marco’s face in his hands and lightly slapped him to wake him back up, the echo of Marco’s name in his voice filling the tight space around them. When the merman didn’t reopen his eyes, Jean had checked for a pulse in his neck, and had nearly screamed when he encountered Marco’s gills. He hadn’t expected them to be there, and the sensation of them on his fingers had lingered for days after. It was still there if Jean really thought about it, and it sent a chill up his spine every time.  
Giving up on the pulse, Jean held still and watched to see if Marco’s chest was still moving, a different indication of life. And finding that the merman was still breathing, Jean’s panic moved in a different direction. Help.  
He’d dialed up Sasha and Connie, his two best friends from undergrad who’d also stayed on at the university as med and grad students, and recruited their assistance. Sasha was in the process of earning her nursing certification, and had a natural affinity for healing others _and_ calming Jean down, so naturally she was his first call. Connie, on the other hand, had always been the most attuned with folklore of the three of them. He’d shared so many local legends about the magical creatures that inhabited the region, passed down from his grandfather, that Jean figured he had to know _something_ useful to save Marco.  
And Jean’s instincts had been right on both accounts. When Sasha arrived, her presence instantaneously calmed Jean’s fraying nerves. She examined Marco as best she could, and deduced that his injury was likely the cause of his current ailment. She admired Jean’s work patching Marco up, and praised him for offering food and water so that the mermaid could keep his strength up. However, Sasha couldn’t give a complete diagnosis or a treatment plan without deeper knowledge of mermaid anatomy.  
That’s where Connie came in. When Jean explained the situation, Connie hadn’t said a single word, simply pulling out his cell phone and calling up his grandfather. Mr. Springer had given them almost all of the information they needed to bring Marco back. Turns out he hadn’t just passed stories down to his grandchildren; Mr. Springer was a certified mythologist, and had spent a majority of his life studying the creatures of the sea.  
He’d told them Marco’s condition was the result of an infection in his wound. There were certain water and airborne illnesses found at the junctions between salt and fresh water that were only dangerous to merfolk, and all of Marco’s symptoms matched perfectly with such a disease. Mr. Springer posited that it was likely that the mermaid had traveled a few miles through unclean conditions on a depleted energy supply, making him more susceptible to such ailments. The lack of salt water after the attack may have also played a factor, as well as the shock of a shark attack, mershark or otherwise. Like Sasha, he commended Jean on the actions he’d taken to fix Marco up, and reassured him that Marco’s condition had nothing to do with him. In fact, Jean’s apartment was probably one of the safest places for the merman at the moment, with the actual safest being an aquarium tank where he could be fully submerged in salt water, but they didn’t really have the time or resources to make that happen.  
But they would still be able to save Marco. Time was the most important factor in treating merfolk ailments like this, and Jean couldn’t have been more grateful that he’d found Marco when he did. All they had to do was surround the wound site with salt water, and try to get fluids and sugar into Marco’s system. His body, weak or not, would do the rest on its own, as long as he had those things. They sent Connie to the store for salt and fruit juice, while Jean and Sasha filled the tub with new water and poured in all the salt Jean already had in the house. Jean also attempted to wake Marco up, but didn’t get much more than half-lidded eyes and mumbled incoherencies.  
It proved a challenge to keep him hydrated, as Marco was rarely awake enough to actually drink anything. They had to settle for just pouring the juice down his throat and hoping he didn’t choke, (and he never did, which was something Jean was gonna have to ask him about cause that is _not_ how it would’ve worked for anyone else). Sasha suggested they make ice cubes out of the juice so that they could just place them in Marco’s mouth and let them melt, which they also did in addition to forcing it down his throat (which sounded a lot worse when they said it out loud.)  
By 5pm, Marco’s skin had started to regain color, and his wound hadn’t bled in an hour. One last call to Mr. Springer had all three people sighing in relief. Marco was going to pull through this time.  
Jean had ordered a pizza as a thank you for Sasha and Connie, but had fallen asleep on the bathroom floor before it arrived. He hadn’t experienced adrenaline and anxiety like that in a long time, and after Marco rounded the corner, his body gave up and forced him to rest. Connie had woken him when the pizza got there, reminding Jean that he hadn’t eaten much that day, and needed energy if he was going to continue to check on Marco that night.  
So he’d eaten pizza, and promptly passed out as soon as Sasha and Connie left with promises that they’d return the minute Jean needed them again.  
Jean had slept for the rest of the night, and woke in the morning to find Marco still asleep as well. His coloring looked so much better, and so did his injury when Jean inspected it. Jean took care to empty and refill the tub with clean water, adding a little bit of salt to keep the healing process going. He also switched the bandages around Marco’s injury. The mermaid slept through it all. Mr. Springer said that might happen. But a little nagging voice of worry still pulled at the back of Jean’s brain every time he looked at Marco’s face, still but peaceful.  
Jean still wasn’t sure why he was so worried about the mermaid. They’d quite literally just met, and knew hardly anything about each other except their names. He had absolutely nothing to gain or lose from Marco’s recovery.  
And yet, he did. He wasn’t sure why or how, but Jean felt an attachment to Marco he hadn’t felt towards anyone else before. And he needed to see him fully well before Jean could be truly okay again.  
Which is why Jean felt the prickle of tear in the back of his eyes when he ambled into the kitchen to see Marco sitting contentedly on his living room couch, awoken from two days of a dead sleep.  
“Oh!” Jean gasped in pure surprise. Marco’s eyes turned away from the TV (which he’d been squinting it in adorable confusion) at the sound of Jean’s voice. “You’re up!” He ran forward a bit, but then checked himself. He didn’t want to freak Marco out by acting weird. But he knew that the way his eyes widened when he saw the sweatpants Marco was currently wearing was probably kinda weird for the mermaid. “And you have legs now.”  
“Ah, yes.” Marco glanced down at said legs before smiling back up at Jean. “I have legs. Or at least I can. When I want. It’s something all menfolk can do.”  
Jean nodded, lips pursed in thought. “Cool, cool.”  
“So uh… what happened? To me?” Marco asked shyly.  
“You um… your wound got infected,” Jean explained. “I freaked out, and called my friends, and together we got you all patched up again.”  
Marco nodded, looking away as a slight blush painted his cheeks. “I’m so sorry I scared you. And caused you trouble.”  
“Marco, don’t apologize.” Jean rushed forward and sat on the couch next to the merman, (or should he just say man now that he had human legs?) “It’s not your fault at all! Connie’s grandpa said that there’s a high chance of this happening when a mermaid moves from salt to fresh water, or vice versa.”  
“Connie?” Marco asked, head tilting to the side, as it usually did when he was extra confused (Jean had noticed.)  
Jean shook his head, a chastisement of his misstep. “He’s one of my friends that came to help. Sasha’s my other friend. You can meet them as soon as you feel up to it.” He paused. “But only if you want to meet them.”  
Marco nodded. “I think that would be fun.” He also paused, looking down at a horizon Jean couldn’t see. “So, according to this Connie’s grandfather, I’m cured now?”  
It was Jean’s turn to nod. “Cured, but I don’t think you’re all the way healed yet. When I changed your bandages last night, the wound still looked pretty bad, but nothing like it did three nights ago…”  
“ _Three?!_ ” Marco sat bolt straight, eyes nearly popping out of his head. Jean moved back on instinct, surprised by the outburst.  
“Yeah, you were out for two whole days,” Jean replied with a nod of confirmation. “Your body was focused on healing. But don’t worry; I switched out your water and bandages, and made sure you were good on fluids and sugar by pouring juice down your throat.”  
Jean was surprised when he saw Marco’s eyes well up with tears. “You didn’t have to do that,” the merman whispered.  
“Of course I did,” Jean replied. “I didn’t drag you from that muddy beach just to let you die in my bathtub.”  
“But…”  
“No buts. You’re my friend now, and I’m happy to take care of you.”  
A tear slid from each of Marco’s eyes. “Jean. Thank you.”  
Jean shrugged. “Don’t mention it. Besides, the only coherent thing you said was my name, so I feel like if I didn’t help you, I’d be cursed.”  
“Really?”  
Jean nodded. “It’s probably bad luck not to…”  
“No, no, I mean the only thing I said was your name?” Marco’s teary eyes were searching Jean’s for something.  
“And ‘help.’” Jean shrugged. Marco nodded and looked away again. He swiped at his eyes. “Why? Does that mean something to you?’  
Marco pouted his lips as he shook his head. “No. It’s just… I guess we’ve really made an impact on each other, huh?”  
“You could say that.” Jean settled back against the couch, arms folding over his chest. “Guess all it takes is a puppy and some pretzels, huh?”  
Marco laughed, imitating Jean’s posture on the couch. “I guess so.” The two of them sat in perfect silence for a few moments, breathing in each other’s company.  
“So what really happened?” Jean asked. Marco asked for clarification with nothing but his eyes. “To you. Your injury. What’s the full story?”  
Marco blew out a breath that ruffled his bangs. Jean deserved to know this story, especially after all he’d done for him. So Marco closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and launched in: “So my tribe decided I was going to marry a member of the mershark tribe. It was meant to be a diplomatic move towards peace between our peoples, cause we haven’t always gotten along. But of course, I had absolutely no say in the matter. Neither did my fiancé, Reiner. It was kind of a relief when we first met and he told me he didn’t want to marry me, cause I didn’t either. I wasn’t ready, cause I guess I’ve always had a stupid dream of marrying for love. And he’s in love with someone else. So we almost bonded over that, and tried to come up with a plan to still merge the tribes without us having to get married.  
“We’d decided to try to just try to talk with our tribe leaders, logically explain our position, and how there had to be a better way of uniting our peoples than this random marriage. So we arranged the meeting. The queen of my tribe and her highest advisors, the high chief of the mershark tribe and his advisors, a few extra witnesses from both tribes, Reiner, and me. And it was going well; they were listening to us. But it was all a set up. As soon as I said I refused to marry Reiner, and before he could second that with his own refusal to marry me, one of the queen’s advisors released a blood capsule into the air. I’m sure you’re aware of how sharks react to blood?” Jean nodded. “They wanted it to look like the mersharks were angry at us, and attacked us for going against their will. Our tribe’s elders decided it was time to make a move against the mersharks, and set up this marriage as a way to force their hand. They wanted to stage an attack, and I think they intended for me to die so they’d have more of a reason to declare war.  
“But, back to the story, they released the blood, and Reiner and the mershark leaders began to attack us, against their will, and my tribesmen went out and trumpeted to the world that the mershark tribe was a danger to society, when in fact it was their fault. But I had no time to stop them cause I was getting attacked. Of course a number of the advisers and our queen got out of there, or had actual defensive gear. They made sure I was the easiest target.”  
Jean’s face had gone eerily pale, but Marco swallowed hard and forged ahead: “Reiner was closest to me, or I guess I was closest to him cause I don’t really know how the shark instincts work, but he got me before I could react.” Marco gestured to the gashes in his side, which had finally stopped bleeding, thanks to Jean’s magic paste. “We hardly knew each other, but I think something about me screaming in pain woke him up for a second. And in that brief moment, Reiner was able to fight off the effects of the blood long enough to apologize for the bite and help me to escape. He physically carried me to the entrance of the pipe system that led me here. Well, it wasn’t so much a carry as a strong push in the right direction, urging me to get out while there was still time. So I did. And now here we are.”  
“And now here we are,” Jean repeated, nodding his head over and over like a toy. His gaze was distant, his mind rushing to process the tale. “Why did it have to be you?”  
“I’m sorry?”  
“Why did _you_ have to marry the mershark guy?” Jean clarified.  
“Oh. My family is known throughout the region for our sirenic gifts. They’re admired by many of the other merspecies, especially the mersharks. So they chose me for that reason.” Marco swallowed again and closed his eyes. “It’s also cause our leaders are scared that we’ll use our powers against them one day. It happened in another tribe years ago, so they likely used me as a warning to my family to not try anything.”  
A warm presence on his hand had Marco’s eyes snapping open. Jean’s hands were clutching his and his golden eyes were fierce when Marco met them. “Marco, that’s terrible. And I’m so sorry they did that to you.”  
Marco felt like crying again. “Thanks Jean.”  
The young man nodded, giving Marco’s hand a hard squeeze before letting go. “I am gonna need you to explain sirenic powers, though.”  
Marco nodded resignedly. “You know what a siren is?” Jean nodded. “It’s that. The ability to control people with our voices.”  
“Oooooh, that makes a lot of sense. Why didn’t I think of that?” Jean lightly smacked his head and Marco forced a laugh. He’d had this conversation before, with friends, merfolk, human, and otherwise. And it usually ended poorly.  
He noticed the minute Jean put two and two together. And his heart started to pound wildly in his chest. “Did you use your power on me? That first night?”  
Marco nodded contritely. “Yes. I… I needed help, and I wasn’t able to get my legs. So I just… called out. And you heard me.“ Jean nodded, looking off at another corner of the room. “I… I swear that has _nothing_ to do with our friendship. I didn’t manipulate you at all so that you’d like me, or help me, or anything. Just that you’d find me.” Marco’s heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest. “You aren’t gonna break off with me cause of it, are you?”  
Jean’s gaze snapped back to his. His golden eyes were hard, but confused. “Break off with you?”   
Marco nodded and pointed at the TV, to the sitcom he’d been watching. “Like what happens when humans in a close relationship fight? Breaking off?”   
Jean stared at him, incredulous. And then he started to laugh. A full body laugh that had him bent at the waist, leaning on his knees for support as tears began to roll down his cheeks. Marco stood frozen with fear.   
“Do you mean break up?” Jean asked breathlessly.  
“I-I don’t know!” Marco cried, standing up from the pressure of it all. He ran his hands through his hair. “Breaking up, breaking off. You’re not gonna do any of it with me cause I used my siren call on you, right?!”  
Jean stood up despite the tears of mirth in his eyes and grabbed Marco’s hands. “Marco, we may’ve met three days ago, but I would never break off with you for using your mind control powers on me when you were in a state of emergency. If we’re being honest, I don’t think there are many things you could do to make me want to break off with you.”  
Marco’s heart skipped a few beats. “Really?”  
Jean squeezed his hands. “Call me crazy, but I totally understand why Ariel and Eric worked.” Marco tilted his head to the side with a smile. “They only had three days too, but they knew there was something special there.”  
“You think there’s something special between us then?”  
“One hundred percent.”  
“Even though I’ve spent two of the last three days passed out in your shower?”  
“Uh-uh.”  
“We hardly know each other.”  
“Are you trying to say you _don’t_ feel something here?” Jean asked accusingly, one eyebrow arching. Marco bit his lip as he thought. He _had_ felt something in him shift that first night. He’d chalked it up to trauma and injury. But maybe it had been something more. A missing piece finally come home.  
“And it doesn’t bother you at all that I’m not human?” Marco asked.  
Jean shook his head. “By the sound of it, staying with me is your best option anyway. You’re as good as dead back home.” He froze up immediately after he said it, then held the merman’s hands harder. “Marco, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…”  
“No, you’re exactly right.” Marco nodded and squeeze Jean’s hands back. “As much as I’ll miss my family, I can’t go back there. Not until I know there’s peace, or I have a better plan to bring peace. I would love to stay here with you… if you’ll let me commandeer your bathtub for a little longer.”  
Jean laughed out loud before meeting Marco’s eyes with the brightest smiles. “My bathtub if yours forever, if you want it.”  
Marco leaned forward with a smile of his own. “I’d like that very much.”

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I hope this is what you were dreaming of! There are some connections between scenes that felt stretched to me; the ideas were there, but some weren't wholly cooperating, but I sincerely hope that you enjoyed this! Thank you, and have a lovely day!


End file.
